


Cybertronains and the War of Centuries

by phoenixburncold



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Autobots - Freeform, Battle, Cybertron, Cybertronians - Freeform, Decepticons - Freeform, Fights, Gen, Lots of bros, Lots of fights, MEANING it will jump around a lot, No Relationship, Original Characters - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Pain, Regeneration, THIS WILL NOT BE A SMOOTH STORY, Transformers - Freeform, War, Wounds, battles, cuz why not, cybertron has trees, energon is blood, it also has lava, it's all on Cybertron, it's nice to reread it, just letting you know, needed to work on something not spn for a bit, there is some torture here, though i wrote this years ago, to be fair friendships are the best, well other than friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixburncold/pseuds/phoenixburncold
Summary: One Autobot stands ahead of the rest in the War that started long before he climbed out of the Well of Sparks. This is a story of him, his friends and comrades, and the Deceptions he battled. For freedom is the right of all sentient beings.





	1. Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off multiple Transformers media. I went through a very long Transformer phase and I owe a lot of my writing development to it. So I figured I'd put it up. As I mentioned in the tags, this is a way I dealt with my depression and anxiety. For some reason, writing graphic war scenes helped me. I don't know what that says about me but, whatever. This will not be a flowing story. It will be jumpy and you will get thrown into action rather suddenly.

The sound of a blast nearby woke him from his regeneration cycle. He sat up, along with the many other members of the building who had been regenerating as well. Already the higher ranked Cybertronians stood at the entrance, warily looking outside. Optics blinking, the light in the building flickered on and off as the large beings closed their eyes – even for the nanosecond it took to clear them. 

“What happened?” whispered a fellow soldier beside the large Cybertronian. 

He leaned back to the much smaller being. “I don't know,” he whispered as well. “But if it was that close, there's sure to be a battle soon.” The smaller Cybertronian nodded in agreement. 

“Everyone up,” one of the elders ordered, the burst of communication demanding to be obeyed. The younger Cybertronians quickly stood.

The elder Cybertronian studied the younglings he had been put in charge of. Many of them were small and nimble, the rest large in every way with thick skin. Kup's optics settled on the largest of his group. The young Cybertronian was colored blue and red among much of his metal skin. “You there,” he said, pointing to the youngling. “What's your name again?” 

The young Cybertronian pulled himself even taller before responding, “Orion, sir. Orion Pax.” 

“Ooh, a fancy one here, two names instead of one.” The young voice came somewhere from the back of the room. 

The elder's optics slashed its way to the young silver Cybertronian. “I didn't ask you anything, youngling,” Kup snapped. “So next time shut your vocal processors off.” He turned back to the tallest youngling. He looked extremely nervous. “There's no need for that, youngling,” Kup said gently to the large fellow. “We're all Autobots here. No Decepticon in sight.”

Autobots. Orion felt the pride swell through his systems at the mere word. Autobots. Those who fought for justice and peace. Those who would stop at nothing to stop the war, save compromising freedom.

“Orion.” 

“Yes sir!”

Kup sighed inwardly. _To be that young that full of energy again,_ the elder Autobot thought to himself. _This blasted war will suck you dry and spit your empty hide out._ “Do you know how many soldiers are in this camp?”

“Sir?”

The confusion in the youngling's optics was echoed throughout the building. “Well you're all up, might as well keep your mind sharp until we'll called.”

Optics immediately shifted from confusion to respect. “There are four hundred Autobots in the camp, sir,” Orion responded. 

Kup nodded his head. “And how many camps are in this district?” 

“Five, sir.” 

Kup nodded. “Good.” 

His optics wondered along the room, settling on a small yellow Autobot. “You there,” he called. 

“Yes sir?” The young Autobot's voice was strong but still held the slight waver of a youngling. 

“Name?” 

“Bumblebee sir.” 

Kup nodded. “Spy class?” The yellow head nodded. Kup nodded as well. “Good, we need every spy we can get. Every small soldier we have is just as important as the large ones. We'll need every kind of soldier if we're gonna stop this war.”


	2. Of Metal and Energon

“Get out of the way,” cried Orion, pushing the smaller Autobot. Sideswipe fell to the side, while Orion stood where he had been only seconds before. He scrambled to move himself but the roof collapsed, knocking him unconscious before covering him.

“Get up!” hissed a young familiar voice. Orion moaned, struggling to recall where he was. “Orion, you have to get up!”

The youngling slowly shifted his optics to see Sideswipe crouching beside him, firing off his weaponry through the small hole in the wall. Orion groaned, pain shooting through his systems. “I can't move,” he moaned. “My legs... aren't responding.”

Sideways looked back, panicked. Orion lay covered, the rubble so thick the smaller Autobot couldn't make anything but Orion’s head and half of his shoulders. He was already half unconscious again, pain stabbing through his systems. “Orion!”

Slowly Orion’s head fell back against the rubble, optics black. “Orion!” Sideswipe turned to the unconscious Autobot. _His breathing system still functions,_ noted the youngling. The deep moan that came from Orion shook him. Ignoring the enemy fire that pummeled the walls of what remained of the building, Sideswipe struggled to pull off the huge chunks of metal that covered his fellow comrade. “By the stars,” he breathed. Orion entire body was riddled with deep cuts streaming energon. His left leg was severed at the thigh while his right spat angry sparks. His right hand looked broken and his left arm was torn out of its socket.

Suddenly static cackled from Sideswipe’s arm. “Spike team Beta, where are you? This is Command. Can you hear this Spike team Beta?” 

Sideswipe clicked to the comlink frequency. “I read you Command. This is Sideswipe. We need back-up and I mean now!”

“Calm down Sideswipe,” Kup's voice came over the comlink. “What's happened?” 

“Orion is down! I repeat Orion is down! We were separated from the others! We've got a whole mess of Decepticons coming at us! Orion was hit, he's badly damaged! I don't know what happened to the rest of the team. You gotta get us outta here! Decepticons are all over the place!” 

“Where are you Sideswipe?” 

The youngling struggled to find the coordinates. When he finally found his location he spat them out.

“Alright, Sideswipe, we've got you. Just stay calm and stay low. DO NOT try to get yourself out. Back-up is on the way.” Kup nodded to the nearby squad leader. The youngling nodded back before rounding his team out the door, fully loaded and moving as fast as they could to the location. Kup continued, “We've got a team coming after you. How bad is Orion?” 

The background noise from the youngling's comlink was almost as loud as Sideswipe's voice. _He's getting hit hard,_ thought the old timer. 

“Left leg severed. Left arm out of place. Right leg spitting sparks. Right hand broken. He's got over a dozen deep cuts. He's bleeding real bad, sir!” 

Kup swore, it didn't sound good for the youngling. “Try to mend the worst cuts with your med pack. There's a medic in the team coming for you. When they get there, give them cover. You hear me Sideswipe?” 

“Yes, sir.” The frightened panic in the youngling's voice lessened.

Orion woke in severe pain. He moaned deeply, scaring himself with how low it was. “Sideswipe,” he gasped. 

The youngling was sitting beside him, optics wide in fright as they met his. “Orion!” 

Pax moaned again, struggling to move. Only his right arm responded quickly; his right leg answered his demand but delayed by ten seconds; both screamed in pain. He looked over at his left shoulder and gaped. It was well out of its socket. “Help me sit up.” Sideswipe did. “You've... you've got to push it back,” Orion said, panting from the pain. The building they hid in shook from another heavy hit. Immediately both younglings mentally fortified the building walls. Orion moaned. 

“Are you sure?” the smaller Autobot asked. Orion nodded. “I can't shoot with my hand broken. At least with my arm functional, I can help give us some cover.” Sideswipe looked uncertain. Orion looked carefully at his comrade. “You did it before, didn't you? During medical week?” 

The silver Autobot nodded before settling in the right position.

Orion almost fainted from the huge swell of pain as the arm was pulled back into place. He fell against Sideswipe as his vision went red a moment. He blinked rapidly, panting heavily now, but he was able to sit up on his own. Slowly he pulled his outer skin away from the weapon on his back. Reaching for it, he asked, “How many of them are out there?”

Sideswipe, assured enough for the moment Orion would be alright, slid into his original position. “I counted a dozen last time I looked. That was about ten cycles ago.”

Orion nodded before settling in a position nearby Sideswipe. “The Autobot command is sending us back-up,” Sideswipe said, optics glowing in the falling light of the building. 

Night was coming. Orion couldn't hide the relief from his face even if he wanted to. “Good,” he breathed. Then he looked his fellow Autobot in the optics. “Let's see how many Decepticons we can bring down before they come.” Both grinned before opening the wall to fire.

Several cycles passed. Shots of all kinds of weaponry were fired. The two youngling Autobots fought hard and bravely, but they were no match compared to the dozen fully trained – and much more experienced – Decepticons. Both Autobots were hit many times, and their wounds were taking a heavy toll.

Orion was almost faint from the energon loss and exhaustion. Sideswipe was so badly injured, he couldn't fire anymore. His shoulders and arm were torn to pieces; his chest spat sparks. Energon poured from both younglings. Sideswipe panted for breath, his weapon sinking back into his skin. He fell to his side, the hole in the building he had mentally kept open to shoot from sealed as his body fell against the wall. “Sideswipe,” cried Orion, seeing his comrade fallen. 

Sideswipe slid down the rest of the wall on his side. He looked up at Orion. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, before his optics went black and he slumped against the ground. 

“Sideswipe!” Orion pushed his fingers against what remained of the Autobot's chest. Energon, regeneration, and breathing systems still functioned, though weakly. “Just hang on,” Orion said softly.

Orion continued to fire shot after shot at the surrounding Decepticons, but he knew it was already too late. They had surrounded the building and soon it was all Orion could do just to keep the building together, pushing against the Decepticons' combined will to force the building walls down. He panted heavily, energon pooling under him as he sat with his back against the wall. Pax had cocooned Sideswipe's body after using what little metal was left in the med-pack to seal the silver warrior's worst wounds, so the Autobot lay surrounded in the metal of the floor of the building. Orion lay with his legs straight out. He held his weapon in his lap, ready to fire when the Decepticons broke through. He clenched his mouth shut as he pushed against the ten remaining Decepticons' demand for the building. 

Suddenly, it was gone. Orion gasped out, not realizing he had held his breath, as the pressure left. The sound of a battle reached his hearing. Cries of pain and the noise of weapons fire came through the building's walls.

Then, all at once, the furthest wall fell away. Orion warily watched the figures enter, snapping his weapon up to hone onto the nearest one. 

“Easy there youngling. It's alright. They've retreated.” 

The young Autobot blinked before letting his arm fall.

Magnus immediately gave the younger Autobot respect. He lay literally bleeding to death, all but his left arm totally useless and he still managed to lift his weapon at him. His comrade lay cocooned in bad shape beside him. Magnus was four months older than the still conscious Autobot, but Magnus knew had he been in the youngling's place, he would have been hard pressed to be in any better shape. So he knelt beside the severely wounded Autobot and placed a gentle hand on his still functional arm. 

“You did well, soldier. Rest now. We'll get you home safe.” The younger Autobot nodded weakly before moaning, his head swaying. Magnus turned to his medic. “Ratchet, do what you can to him first, then move on to the unconscious Autobot.” 

“Yes sir.” The young medic immediately stepped forward and knelt beside the red and blue colored Autobot.

Ten cycles later, the two young Autobots were able to be moved. Magnus helped the barely conscious Autobot to his feet before offering himself as a crutch to the youngling who had said his name was Orion Pax. As Magnus helped the wounded Autobot out, he had the distinct feeling that he and this certain soldier were going to be close allies – if he survived.


	3. Patched

Orion woke with a moan. Head to the side as his optics opened there was a hazy view of his arm. Blinking, his sight restored itself, showing several long gray tubes attached to his left arm and his torso. Every two seconds the tubes would glow orange before dimming to gray again. “Wh...where... am I?” 

“Safe.” 

Orion’s head slowly turned to face the owner of the voice. Magnus crouched in front of him. “We got you back to the base. You're in a medical resuscitation building. We almost lost you.” 

“Sideswipe,” gasped Orion, his weak body almost paralyzed. 

Magnus looked to Orion's right. 

Slowly Pax turned his own head. “Oh Sideswipe,” he breathed, looking at the Autobot. “What have they done to you?” 

His comrade lay on the ground beside him. Half a dozen tubes were attached to various parts of Sideswipe's body. His remaining thigh was stripped to reveal its circuitry and wiring. The silver warrior looked even worse than Orion had last remembered. 

“You don't look so good yourself,” Magnus told the youngling.

As the weak Autobot turned to face Magnus, the older Cybertronian couldn't believe the damage the youngling had survived. Over a dozen tubes were settled deep into his skin, glowing with the energon they pumped into the wounded Autobot to help his systems reboot and heal. Magnus had watched the skilled medics work tirelessly with the two younglings, taking hours to piece together the damaged systems and sealing the thick and heavy wounds the two had taken. Even now two medics were piecing together a new leg for the silver Autobot. 

Orion blinked slowly at him. “Thank you,” he said, voice weak. 

Magnus nodded. “I'm just glad we got to you in time.” 

Orion nodded slowly. “Thank you for coming after us. A pair of lost younglings.”

“Not so young,” Magnus corrected. 

Orion blinked and nodded. “What... what about the rest of our team?” 

Magnus sighed, looking away. 

“They're... they're dead... aren't they?”

Magnus owed the youngling to look in his optics. “Yes,” he answered, voice heavy in regret, optics showing the feeling. “I'm truly sorry.”

Orion felt crushed, as if he still lay under the tons of metal that had once been a roof. _A dozen Autobots... a dozen younglings, all dead._ He struggled a breath, pain seeping back into his systems. He must have winced, for Magnus looked worriedly at him. “Are we going to make it?” Orion asked the older Autobot. 

“Yes,” Magnus answered. If Orion hadn't been so exhausted, he would have noticed the respect in the older Autobot's optics. As it was Orion was falling unconscious again, optics flickering as he struggled to stay awake. 

“You were a brave Autobot,” Magnus said softly. 

Orion faded away, his optics black. “Worthy of the records,” Magnus finished softly, optics still on the younger Autobot. He stayed there a few more moments before standing again.


	4. Ratchet

“You’re Ratchet right?”

The young Autobot medic didn’t bother looking up as he hooked two energon tubes to the inner circuitry of the wounded male before him. The voice behind him was young, perhaps even Ratchet’s year, and the medic needed his optics on the tubes to make sure the precious liquid didn’t leak at the junctures of the connection. “Yes,” Ratchet snapped as he tightened one of the junctures. “And I’m busy – so unless you’ve got an armful of regeneration metal go away.”

Ratchet barely registered the footsteps as they faded into the background of moans and medics furiously working to keep the soldiers alive. Ratchet started the energon pump and after a cycle he nodded, satisfied in his work. The dark yellow-tinged Autobot looked up, pleased to see whoever it was who had bothered him had left. A moan made him turn quickly and he stood, catching the massively wounded Autobot who had managed to stumble to the med-center just before she collapsed.

Ratchet threw himself into his work. His father had been the first Cybertronian Ratchet had seen during his wobbly exit from the Well of Sparks and Kesey had fondly remarked, “Thank goodness you fell into my lap, I always needed an extra set of hands.” 

Ratchet had literally fallen into Kesey’s lap as he learned to walk on his newly formed legs mere feet from the Well of Sparks entrance. Kesey had been a regeneration tree tender two cities to the south and the older Cybertronian had settled outside the entrance of the Well that day for a much needed regeneration cycle. He had been traveling nonstop for seven days, bringing with him two tons of regeneration metal to Kaon. The city had been devastated by an unexpected movement in Cybertron’s tectonic plates and the regeneration metal was desperately needed. The older Cybertronian had brought Ratchet with him to the city under his care. The freshly born Cybertronian glowed with the new metal sheen, optics wide as he saw the crowds of wounded. Energon and lubricants poured from wounds, splashed against the ground, and pooled under bodies; all in different hues. Buildings were decimated – some reduced to rubble, others collapsed into each other, still others missing large pieces.

But what impressed Ratchet the most, what really imprinted into his very subconscious, was the efficiency of the medics. The teams of medics moved quickly and yet they left each wounded Cybertronian better.

Kesey was a pacifist and Ratchet grew up as one as well; the pair eager to help in any way that didn’t require weapons discharge. Ratchet learned under two mentors; Kesey taught him everything he knew about regeneration trees while Ratchet learned all he could from the city’s medic – Pharma. When the war began, Ratchet was torn between his mentors. Kesey wanted nothing to do with the war and did his best to keep from trading with either faction. Pharma urged Ratchet to join him to the Autobot’s medical camp in Kaon.

The decision was made for him when the Decepticons bombed Ratchet’s home and the regeneration forest behind the building. A missile had nearly severed Ratchet’s leg as he tended to the far edge of the forest. Kesey’s body was found two hours later the rubble, the hole where the missile pierced his chest as big as Ratchet’s fist.

Ratchet joined Pharma to the medcenter and had moved with the elder Cybertronian from one war-devastated battleground to the next. Even though he was one of the youngest medics, he was quickly getting noticed, impressing the elders with his efficiency and competency.

Ratchet lost track of both time and patients, focusing on the immediate tasks before him. The medic just noticed the sun was dipping toward horizon line as he finished his task; wrapping a strap of regeneration metal around a wounded male’s arm and stood.

“Ratchet.”

Ratchet shifted, looking toward the somewhat familiar voice. A tall male stood beside him, arms filled with recently cut regeneration metal. The green flecks in the metal glowed dully in the dimming light of the sun. Ratchet looked at him, blinking in surprise. The male’s skin was covered in recently welded wounds and patches of regeneration metal.

“Are you crazy?” Ratchet cried. “You could have sheared your welding!”

The tall male merely smiled. “You asked for regeneration metal. I brought you some.” Then he grew serious. “I always repay my debts Ratchet. You saved my life. This is the least I could do.”

Ratchet looked at him closer, finally recognizing him. “You’re the soldier who held back a squad of Decepticons while defending a comrade. Orion right?”

The taller Autobot nodded. Then he winced, shifting his arms under the weight of the regeneration metal. “Where do you want me to put this? It’s kinda heavy.”


	5. The Beginning of Something

At first Ratchet had wanted nothing to do with Orion. 

“Now get back to your medbed,” Ratchet said once Orion settled the regeneration metals near the medcenter. The medic had turned slightly, finding Orion kneeling beside another wounded female who was sitting against the side of the center.

“You’ll be fine,” Orion was saying, wrapping a hand around her shoulder as her leg sparked. “You’ve got the best medics here.”

She looked up at him with hope. “Thank you,” she said.

Orion looked up at Ratchet. “What do you need for her?” he asked.

Ratchet shifted, looking at her. “Get me a piece of regeneration metal the size of your hand,” he told Orion. Orion quickly did as he asked, eager to help as Ratchet began his work on the wound.

Orion proved himself competent and compassionate – a surprising realization for Ratchet, who had thought all soldiers were only good for fighting wars. Orion was an eager student and learned everything Ratchet was willing to teach him. The soldier felt there was a good symmetry between taking life and restoring it and had felt he hadn’t learned enough during the mere week focused on the field medic techniques during training. It had been a week since they had let him out of the medcenter and Orion had immediately sought out the medic who had been responsible for stabilizing both Sideswipe and himself. Now Orion spent the majority of his time with the medic. The elder medics had ordered Orion off the battlefield for the next three weeks and Orion had wanted to thank the medic who had helped bring him from the brink of death. So Orion worked hard, always by Ratchet’s side.

Another battle broke out during the second week of Orion’s recovery time and Orion kept up with Ratchet throughout the chaos both on the battlefield and off it. Pax was constantly racing back and forth, resupplying not only Ratchet but all the medics who needed it.

Now Orion sat a few meters from the base, one of the lookouts on the perimeter. Night had returned and the twin moons hung in the sky – one crescent, one just a sliver. The elder medics had cleared him for the night lookout but Orion was exhausted from the day. 

Orion flinched, weapon ready at the sudden noise to his right until he realized it was just an underground slug making its way past him. The creatures were the planet’s natural recyclers – consuming the dead metals and producing fresh resources that helped the regeneration and spike trees grow. Some even speculated they had a part in the creation of life – that they were some part of the seemingly random choice of Cybertronian life.

Orion was just glad it wasn’t a Decepticon.

He dare not regenerate – Decepticons were fond of their nighttime strikes. But exhaustion is a heavy thing and Orion found himself drifting in and out of Alpha stage regeneration patterns, his systems still not at their full strength. 

Then sometime in the middle of the night Orion was suddenly wide awake. There was an unnatural silence about the area that made Orion very uneasy.

The air exploded into sound, not from above but below. Scores of slugs were racing past Orion, moving faster than he had ever seen one move. Orion got to his feet, his unease growing. Following the noise of the slugs racing away was something lower and Orion’s optics darted frantically to look for any signs of attack. It was faintly familiar and Orion struggled to locate the memory chip for it.

Ratchet had been right when guessing Orion was his year. Orion stepped out of the Chamber of Sparks a single lunar cycle before Ratchet and had been on his own for all that time, naming himself and working with the weapon's maker who had stumbled over him during one of his first nights on the surface. When the quake destroyed the city around him, Orion knew nothing but panic. He had been lucky enough to escape the pieces of the building falling toward him only to fall into a tear the quake had created in the ground, the magma searing his skin as he clung to the edge.

When the rescue crew found him, Orion was locked down a few yards away from the edge of the tear – the panic and shock causing all but his major systems to shut down; his legs fused together from the knees down by the heat and burning liquid.

Now that same panic was starting to fill Orion again – moments before the ground shook violently, nearly throwing Orion to the ground. Seconds later lava shot into the sky in a thick stream – thrown out of the tear in the surface of the planet like energon spilling from a fatal wound. Orion saw the side of the recovery center illuminated by the glow of the lava before the ash and fire fell, landing on the center and melting pieces of it. It started small fires, the building crumpling from the heat.

There were Autobots in that building.

Orion pushed through his panic as that realization thundered in his mind. He sounded the alarm and forced himself into a run – heading to the recovery center. Orion faltered only once when a secondary quake cracked the surface he was standing on. He pushed himself forward again, no lava following the tear in the ground.

Orion moved out of the way of the Autobots who managed to get out of the broken building counting them as they passed. Four Autobots came out alone, six Autobots came out in pairs – the weaker Autobots helped by the stronger. Orion ducked into the center, calling out, “Is anyone here?”

Noise filled the building, the metal crumbling and creaking, the fires roaring. Orion moved deeper into the building, trying his best to avoid the molten lava and crumbling pieces. His breathing system became assaulted by the smoke and debris as Orion shifted through the mess. 

“Help,” the weak cry reached his hearing and Orion immediately shifted, heading toward it. He found a yellow tinged Autobot moaning, a steel rod jammed into his shoulder and right optic sparking from getting clipped by the chunk of the roof. Orion recognized him. 

“Bumblebee,” Orion said as he crouched beside the Autobot. 

The wounded Autobot looked at him. “Orion,” Bumblebee breathed in relief.

“Stay still,” Orion told him before gripping the rod and breaking it just above Bumblebee’s skin. “Take my hand.” Bumblebee gripped Orion’s hand with his good one and Orion helped him up, pulling him off the pipe and to his feet in one motion. Bumblebee wrapped his good arm around Orion’s waist and Orion kept him up with his own arm. Pax walked Bumblebee out of the center, optics and hearing receptors on high alert to avoid the falling and burning building. Orion settled Bumblebee a short distance from the building, making sure he could sit on his own. “Here,” Orion said, taking a piece of regeneration metal from the medpack he had kept on him since shadowing Ratchet. He placed it against the jagged hole on Bumblebee’s chest, strapping it there. The bits of green from the metal glowed as the metal began to do its task.

“Thanks,” Bumblebee breathed before Orion stood and nodded, turning to heading back into the building. 

The center was deteriorating quickly but Orion saw more Autobot racing toward the building, more help was on the way. Orion pushed further into the building, the smoke assaulting him. His breath rattled and rasped, his systems unable to compensate for the massive amounts of heat and toxic gases. His optics and breathing system seared and ached but he pushed through.

Orion caught a glimpse of an arm and raced toward it. Pinned under what was once the ceiling, the Autobot’s arm and shoulder were all Orion could see. Lava slipped from the roof, dangerously close to the Autobot’s curled fingers. Orion heaved the pieces off the Autobot, careful to avoid the burning lava streams and noting the luck in the way the pieces had fallen. The Autobot could have been crushed completely by the pieces, but the metal had fallen in such way that he had been spared the worst of it. Orion peered closer. “Magnus,” he breathed, recognizing the Autobot.

Magnus was unconscious and sparking madly, but he was alive. Orion pulled the rest of the heavy pieces off Magnus. His breathing was severely labored now from the activity and toxic gases. Orion gripped Magnus, dragging him out of the remaining rubble and away from the streams of lava. Orion ignored the searing in his own body, focusing on tugging Magnus over his shoulder. Half carrying, half dragging Magnus, Orion moved out of the building. He winced as lava fell in a thick stream from a new hole in the roof, dragging its way from his shoulder down his back. His breathing was labored and the last of his reserve strength drained as he pulled Magnus toward the entrance. Part of the side of the building fell forward and Orion just managed to avoid it, Magnus’ feet barely missing the last of it.

Orion made it the entrance, legs shaking from exhaustion. He was met by a familiar face. Ratchet took Magnus from Orion, easing the heavily wounded Autobot to the ground a few yards away from the entrance. Orion’s whole body shook now and he fell to his knees. Ratchet quickly turned from Magnus to Orion. The medic’s first priority was Magnus, but he had grown rather fond of Orion, considering him a friend after these weeks of working with him.

“Are you going to be okay?” Ratchet asked him.

Orion’s breathing worried Ratchet before the Autobot replied, “I’m fine, just…need to catch my breath.” Ratchet looked at him and Orion promptly fell to the side, optics black in unconsciousness.

When Orion’s optics came back online he saw Ratchet looking down at him. “Why do I get the feeling I’ll be repairing you every other time I lay optics on you?” the medic asked dryly before he and Orion shared a smile.


	6. Poison

Orion Pax was getting noticed. He fought hard and earned a new name for himself – Optimus – and awarded with the title of Lieutenant. When it came to leadership, courage, and strength he was admired, but he never felt worth of it. He fought and bled just like every other soldier around him and truly believed in that very fact, so he could not develop the ego most would have grown. He simply did his duty, pride in the name Autobot and what it stood for – never in himself. Many Autobots looked up at the tall warrior in more ways than one. 

Still, he never treated any as if they were less than or unworthy of his time. He enjoyed the company of each Autobot he came into contact with, which made him the much loved Autobot he quickly became.

Optimus never felt he was on top of Cybertron. 

This battle simply showed him how very fragile life was.

He was fighting alongside two others – Sideswipe, the one who had once, long ago, taunted him for his name, and Magnus, who was beginning to be more and more like a brother to Pax. Together they fought valiantly, throwing back each Decepticon that came their way. They were a fluid motion, each spinning, twisting, ducking, and blocking in perfect rhythm. They had each other's backs, making sure no one came upon their comrade, forcing the enemies to meet their blades instead of tearing through their fellow Autobot's back. 

Then the perfect harmony between the three was shattered. The hard _thunk_ against the ground between them warned them only a nanosecond before the bomb exploded. Optimus was thrown one way, the other two were blown in another. Optimus slammed into a building wall, making it crumble. He spun out of the way of most of it, but two large pieces crashed down on his skull and back. He sank to the ground a moment, optics blurring before the sight became clearer. “Magnus,” he cried, pulling himself up with what remained to the wall. “Sideswipe!”

A hard fist knocked him backward, flipping him so hard for a moment his feet were above his head. Optimus landed hard on his back, the breath forced from his breathing system. For a second his vision went off-line, then it came back on. He almost wished it hadn't. Two Decepticons were making their way past the broken wall and toward him; both much taller, much older, and much stronger than he. 

Pax groaned before pulling himself first onto his knees and then to his feet. _If I die here, one of you is coming with me,_ he silently swore, settling into a fighting position. Without warning, he charged them, blade out. Startled by the bold move from the youngling, one of the Decepticons stood still enough for Optimus to sheer his arm off before he dug deeply into the Decepticon's neck. With a snarl, the Decepticon tried to reach the youngling behind him with his other arm. His comrade tried to move into a position where he could fire a clean shot at the Autobot, but Optimus was wise as well as courageous, twisting the Decepticon his blade was sunk into so his enemy was between him and the ugly looking weapon.

With a growl, the Decepticon facing the youngling shot, not caring whether or not his comrade was hurt in the process or not. The Decepticon in Optimus' possession was killed by the heavy, tearing weaponry, and fell to the ground. Optimus, surprised by the lack of concern of the Decepticon, still had his blade in the dead body, and as the body sank, Optimus' back was turned toward the still living Decepticon. A sharp, searing pain shattered through his systems, making him scream and dropping him to his knees in the pain. A thin long spike was driven into the young Autobot's back, near the shoulder plate. Unable to think past the pain, Optimus could do nothing about the Decepticon's heavy fist as it slammed him to the ground. There was a small stroke of luck for the youngling – the hit pulled Optimus' blade from its wedged position in the dead body and freed the Autobot. Forcing himself to focus, Optimus was able to block the next heavy fist and kicked at the Decepticon's legs. Thrown off his feet, the Decepticon gave a small grunt in surprise before hitting the ground. Optimus knelt over him, about to deliver the final blow, when the Decepticon twisted out of the way and stood over him. Optimus quickly dodged the weaponry before standing himself.

For a few moments the two exchanged hits before the Decepticon managed to get at Optimus' back. Optimus tried to move fast enough but the Decepticon's heavy fists slammed him into the nearest wall. Forced against the wall, Optimus shifted to attack again when the Decepticon grasped the spike still deep in Optimus' back and twisted it. Optimus screamed in pain, head against the wall. Later he would learn the spike held poison that secreted through his systems each time it was moved. His systems sparked within him and he screamed again. Unable to focus past the pain, Optimus stood helpless, forced against the wall, arms and legs useless. The Decepticon forced the spike deeper into Optimus before twisting it again. 

Optimus screamed again, a loud, shattering, electronic scream that sent the walls shaking. Optimus' optics flickered as sparks spat from his entire body. The pain blew almost all his sensors out, leaving the ones that still remained to magnify the pain. He was losing consciousness... no it was worse than that – he was dying, and he could feel it. Optimus’ scream went silent as he hung limply onto the wall.

Then, suddenly, the pain was gone. The hard sound of a body thumping to the ground behind him made the severely wounded Autobot turn around, shoulder against the wall. There, standing in the hole of the far wall, was Magnus, weapon still smoking from the multiple shots he had fired into the Decepticon's head. Optimus looked at him, the relief in his optics almost unbearable, before he fell forward. Magnus rushed to catch him, and pulled him out of the building. Optimus’ optics flickered madly again and his chest was more sparks then metal, eaten out by the poison that swam through his body. Magnus pulled Optimus around the building, one of his own arms nearly useless from the bomb fragments. “Hang on Optimus,” he yelled over the noise of battle. “Hang on!”

Optimus' hand grasped Magnus'. The older Autobot stopped moving and looked at him. “Thank you,” Optimus breathed before his optics went black and his body went slack against Magnus.

For a horrible moment Magnus thought Optimus lay dead in his arms. Fearfully, he pressed his hand against what remained of Optimus’ chest. The energon system under the skin pounded weakly. _He lives still,_ Magnus assured himself before propping Optimus against the wall he had propped Sideswipe. The silver warrior was half-conscious, a large wound on his shoulder and an optic flickering. Energon oozed from the large wound and drops of it slipped from the smaller open gashes in his skin.

Magnus was little better. Exhausted from pulling the two Autobots into the relative safety, Magnus fell against the wall himself. One leg was badly cut open, one arm nearly gone. The side of his head was peppered with sharp fragments of the bomb and his shoulders were cut from the Decepticon he had to fight before he could reach Optimus. He had just managed to kill his enemy when he heard the scream from within the building. The large soldier shuttered at the recollection of Optimus’ screams. Weakly, Magnus flicked his comm on and called for medics, telling them the coordinates and getting their ETA before resting against the wall, head back, optics dark, weapon in his hand across his lap.


End file.
